


Taylor and the Key

by starandrea



Series: The Trizerium Incident(s) [2]
Category: Power Rangers Time Force, Power Rangers Wild Force
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starandrea/pseuds/starandrea
Summary: Taylor and Eric were engaged, and then they weren't.  Luckily neither of them is the type to give up easily.  Taylor takes advantage of the fact that Eric lets her take advantage, but eventually they find their way back to the beginning.





	Taylor and the Key

Sometimes she thinks it's weird that he never changed the locks.  Or moved the spare key.  Or asked for hers back.  Well, he never actually gave her a key, but she took the first spare key from Alice's front step and never returned it, and there's another one there now so she knows he knows she has it.

He locks the house a lot.  Even when he's inside.  Even when he's inside with friends, or family, or expecting someone, he locks the door and waits for them to knock.  It's no wonder he has to leave a spare key with the neighbor: he's probably too paranoid to keep it on his own front step, and he's definitely locked himself out before.

He must have locked himself out before.  She's pretty sure even someone as obsessive about locks as Eric is can't remember the key all the time.  She doesn't have any proof, but she knows him.  That's proof enough, right there.

The first time they were engaged, she stopped knocking.  It wasn't exactly on purpose, and it's always been his house--even when she lives there it's his house--but one time he'd been sleeping, and then another time she'd seen him out back, and after she'd walked in without knocking a couple of times it got to be a habit.

When they broke off the engagement, she didn't come by for a long time.  She didn't give back her key because she wasn't in the neighborhood.  She didn't talk to anyone who talked to him, so it wasn't like she could just ask someone to return it for her.  

She didn't have it on her during their trip into the past, and afterwards she realized that was the earliest she'd ever known about his spare key.  But it didn't matter; it wasn't a new secret he’d shared.  It was before he'd even met her.  It didn't mean anything.

Except that he would later let her take something that had lasted that long, and been a part of his pact with Alice to help each other and keep an eye out for anyone trying to mess with them.

 _No wonder she didn't like you at first,_ he'd said.  No wonder.  Alice probably knew all along that Taylor would break his heart.

She did break his heart.  She knew it, even though he never said, and she didn't apologize for it until they were engaged again and he told her to warn him this time.  "There isn't going to be a this time," she said.  "And I'm sorry for breaking your heart."

She'd expected him to deny it, even if it was true, but he didn't.  "You should be," he said instead, and it made her remember the key.

"Hey," she said, fishing it out of her pocket.  She always had it on her now, no matter what.  "Can I keep this?"

He didn't even make a joke, or complain, or pretend to take it from her.  "You'd better," was all he said.

She supposed in retrospect she should have expected that.  How many times had she used it without his permission, so obviously he couldn't help but notice, and he'd never said a word?  More than that, the number of times she'd used it without his permission and he had said something, but not to her.  To whoever else had noticed: his friends, his parents, Alice's classmates.  They saw her come in, and sometimes they asked.

The first time it had been an accident. He was never there on Tuesday nights. Someone from the base had followed her, and she didn't want to be cornered at home.  She also didn't want to go out; that had been the whole point of leaving the base.  But Eric lived in a bad neighborhood, and he had a windowless bedroom and a lot of locked doors.  She'd figured she could hide there until her tail got tired, or better yet intimidated, and took off.

It turned out he was never there on Tuesday nights because Wes had dragged him into some kind of rotating game night, and that particular Tuesday was Eric's night for hosting.  Taylor saw the cars and the lights and almost kept driving, except there was still someone following her and she did have a key.  She let herself in, steeling herself to bluff her way past a group of people who would definitely want to know who she was, but when she looked back out she saw her tail drive on by.  

She didn't fool herself that they'd given up that easily, but she might not have to stay as long as she’d thought for it to work.

No one called hello from the living room, or yelled for her to come in, but she heard Wes ask, "You need to go?"

And Eric said, "Give me a card."

Someone whose voice she didn't recognize asked, "Who is that?"  But quietly, like they were trying to be subtle.  Whether she or Eric wasn't meant to hear was unclear.

Eric did hear, and he replied shortly, "Girlfriend.  Let her be."

Girlfriend wasn't even true, which was why she went into his bedroom and shut the door.  She slept there overnight, still alone in his bed when she woke up, and the next time she needed a place she couldn't be found she went back.  Eric never asked her to explain herself; rarely even spoke to her if she didn't speak first.  He didn't name her to anyone who asked either, just said "girlfriend" and "mind your own business."  

She didn't hate hearing it.

She didn't get the bed to herself after that first night, either, and that wasn't all bad.  She absolutely did not come to his house for sex, or even to sleep with him, but waking up to the sound of his breathing was inherently comforting despite everything between and behind them.  

It made her feel better that he wasn't on the couch, and it reassured her that he didn't resent her enough to avoid her completely.  Sleeping in the same bed was taking "not avoiding each other” to a new level, but they did what they did.  So far neither of them had managed to alienate the other enough that they couldn't…

Well, stop by unannounced, walk in without knocking, and climb into a bed that might or might not be occupied for no reason other than having one night they didn't spend alone.

Or several nights.  A lot of nights, maybe, as the months went by, but she didn't live there and they weren't engaged.  She reminded herself of that every time she walked in and he had company and they didn't speak.  Not that they spoke when he didn't have company--not much, beyond attention getting or muttered words that were more about tone than content, and once his demand to know if she was being stalked when she brought another tail past his house.  

No, she said.  Or yes, but no, she didn't need help.

Of course you don't, he muttered.  He didn't add sarcastically, _that's why you're here,_ and he didn't ask again.  That wasn't the first time she wondered if they were irrevocably broken, but it might have been the first time she wished they weren't.  The first time she let herself wish it.  Not because it was something she could have, but just because… well.  She didn't like to see him not talking to her.

She was almost glad when he had family over, because who knew what he would say if he did talk.  His family could keep them apart. She'd bossed his friends around, once upon a time, but she'd never been able to intimidate anyone actually related to Eric.  

They knew her, too.  They knew the second she walked in, and the first thing she heard was, "Are you back together with that soldier?"

"She's a pilot," Eric said, "and she's welcome here.  I don't want to talk about it."

Taylor hesitated in the kitchen, taking the juice he'd obviously left for her on the counter and wondering what had made him expect her tonight.  He knew she didn't get along with his family.  Why not warn her off?  They were going to hassle him about this all night, and she was sure she didn't want to know how it turned out.

"Isn't she going to come in and say hello?"

"No," Eric said, which made her want to even though he was right.  There was no way she was walking into that.  "More tea?"

"Well, I won't stop you from going out to see her," came the reply.  "Since apparently we won't be so lucky."

He did come out, and he did bring an empty tea mug.  He caught her eye this time, which was more than he’d done at first, but he didn't say anything and she wasn't about to break the silence.  She didn't have any right to be here in the first place.  He glanced at her juice, nodded, then turned on the stove and stared at the tea kettle like he was testing how fast it would boil under his gaze. 

She took her juice into his bedroom and closed the door.  Most of the way.  When she woke up in the morning the juice bottle was gone and he was in bed with his back to her, probably not asleep.  She took her clothes and changed in the bathroom, and she left before she could open the refrigerator to see how much of the juice he didn't even drink was in there.

The next two times she came over he wasn't in, and the third time he was alone.  It definitely meant she was coming over too often when barely a week had passed before she caught him entertaining Alice in the kitchen.  He didn't help her with homework, as a general rule, but he did teach her to cook.  It was harder to pass the kitchen without comment than the living room, but she gave it her best shot.

"Taylor?" Alice demanded.  It clearly wasn't addressed to her when she added, "What's she doing here?"

"Sleeping," Eric said.  "Probably.  Do you want more chocolate in that?"

"Why is she sleeping at your house?" Alice wanted to know.  "You're not engaged anymore.  You said you were never going to see her again."

"I was wrong," Eric said.  "Don't scare her off."

Alice scoffed.  "I'd scare her off if I could," she said.  "She's mean and horrible and you're my best friend.  You shouldn't have to be nice to someone who made you cry."

Eric didn't so much as glance over his shoulder.  "Life's not fair," he said.  "I'm adding maple syrup."

"Eww, no!" she exclaimed.  "You can't, you'll get diabetes!  Eric, stop that!"

It was the last time Taylor almost turned around and left, because that night she woke up when he snuck into bed beside her.  And he was sneaking, because he was never that careful when she was awake.  She shouldn't say anything, it wasn't fair, but she whispered, "Hey," anyway, and "I'm sorry."

He pulled the pillow up against his shoulder and tugged on the blanket until she rolled off of the corner and let him pull it more evenly across the mattress.  She thought he wasn't going to answer at first, and then she didn't even know what she wanted him to say, because anything would be too much.  She wasn't here to talk.  She wasn't here for anything.  It was just some old leftover habit that she should have tried harder to kick.

"Not sorry enough," he said at last, and she curled away from him and concentrated on breathing so she wouldn't cry.

In the morning he was gone, and there was a note on her side of the bed.  The side of the bed she'd been sleeping on, anyway.  She couldn't read it without seeing her ring, right there in the middle like he wanted her to--

 _You could wear this, you know,_ the note said.   _Get rid of your stalker._

Maybe he just wanted her to stop showing up at his house at all hours every other day.  Maybe he thought she was looking for it, and giving it back to her would make her go away.  Maybe he didn't want it anymore and the easiest way to get rid of it was to make her take it with her.

But those were all excuses, and she knew it.  He wanted her to have the ring because he'd never wanted her to give it back.  The worst part wasn't even that she wanted it back herself.  It was that she had no idea how to take it without being the truly horrible person Alice had accused her of being.

She was taking advantage of him.  She must be, even if it felt—it didn’t feel wrong.  But she knew he wouldn't turn her away, and she knew he wouldn't ask questions if she didn't answer them.  He wouldn't make her do anything she didn't want to, and she could just walk all over him and his space.

What if he wanted to bring someone else home?  What if he wanted his own house to himself for a change?  He got nothing out of her being here except less say than ever in what she did and how it affected him.  And he just let her do it, because he must think not letting her do it would be worse.

So she was already that person, apparently.  Taking the ring wouldn't make it any worse.

She didn’t really miss her engagement ring, much as she wanted it back.  She wanted it for what it used to mean.  She didn't like the idea of trying to wear it again.  She wasn't supposed to wear jewelry and she didn't like doing it besides.  She'd worn the ring on a collar around her neck when she'd worn it at all, and it was no safer there than it was on her hand.

She put it on her finger and stared at it.  She left it there while she brushed her teeth and changed her clothes, watching the sparkle catch the corner of her vision until she stared again, wondering what she thought she was doing.  The fact that he'd left her a note didn't make it okay.  The fact that he let her into his house, into his bed, even after everything… that didn't make it okay.

It just made it easy.

The ring was still on her finger when she left, but there was a note on the counter that said, _I want to be sorry enough.  Can I take you out sometime?_  She signed it, knowing as she did that it was a terrible idea.  The ring, the note, the request for a date.  They were over.  And if they were going to stop being over, they needed to talk about what they could live with, what they could honestly give and what they would take, not just pick up like they'd never been interrupted.

He wasn't there when she drove by that night.  Of course he wasn't; he wasn't her husband.  Or even her boyfriend.  So she'd asked him out.  Even if he was thinking about it, no one had said tonight.

She went in anyway, and there was a single flower in a vase on the kitchen counter.  Under it was a note that said, _I'm not going anywhere with you until we talk._

 _So I'll bring food over,_ she wrote back.   _Tell me when._

She left as soon as she’d written the words, because talking was hard and she needed some warning, and also because she was afraid she was turning into the stalker she'd been trying to avoid.

Her phone buzzed while she was getting ready for bed.  Assuming it was Alyssa, she had to read the text several times before she could make sense of it.   _Come over tomorrow,_ it said.   _No notes._

She frowned until she realized the text was Eric, telling her to talk.  Hilarious, coming from him.  But she knew what he liked for dinner, and she didn't dress up but she did wear her hair loose.  And when he opened the door he was barefoot, dressed in one of his pretty white shirts that was the opposite of a uniform. 

He didn't smile.  She didn't push past him, either, just waited on the step while he stood in the doorway.  Like everything they'd done together, it felt longer than it probably was.

"Hi," she said at last.  "Can I come in?"


End file.
